


Spice Up Your Life

by WistfulMoon_ArdentStars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Auror Harry Potter, Book Collector Draco, Canon Divergence - Post-Hogwarts, Desi Harry Potter, Draco Can't Handle Spicy Food, Dramatic Draco Malfoy, Drarry, Famous Harry, First Dates, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry is a Secret Hopeless Romantic, Indian food, M/M, OK Maybe Not So Secret, Spicy Food, utter stupidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WistfulMoon_ArdentStars/pseuds/WistfulMoon_ArdentStars
Summary: “Thought about dating me often then?” Draco questions with a coy smile.“Yeah, loads,” Harry matches Draco's smile with a dazzling one of his own breaking out across his handsome features. He settles himself back onto the coffee table between Draco’s knees.“And just what else have you thought about when concerning us?”*****Things get a bit spicy on Harry and Draco's first date just not in the way either had imagined.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 26
Kudos: 139





	Spice Up Your Life

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: extremely stupid & mild hate towards sour cream
> 
> I don't even know you guys lol 
> 
> Just a silly thing I wrote in about an hour 
> 
> please enjoy!

“I can't believe— _HIC_ —you let me do that.”

“ _Let_ you—Draco, you— _ugh_ —you are the one who insisted—”

“What have you— _HIC_ —done to me? My throat feels like— _HIC_ ―there's a hole burning through it.” Draco moans as he clutches at his throat and sinks himself further into Harry’s couch. 

His face is flushed a deep red that Harry reckons would match one of his Gryffindor jumpers quite nicely. His face is also very _wet._ Though at this point it was impossible to differentiate it being from the tears or the neverending stream of snot his nose was so ungraciously supplying. 

Harry almost found it rather cute to see Draco looking so undignified. Almost being the keyword. There were a bit too many bogies at the moment to overlook.

Harry rolls his eyes, “Yes, yes,” he stands and moves towards his kitchen.

“Where are you— _HIC_ —going? Am I to be left here all alone? To— _HIC_ —die here like an ani— _HIC_ —mal! Some date you— _HIC_ —are!” Draco shouts, making sure his partner for the evening can hear his despair. 

Harry chooses to ignore his date for the moment as he makes his way over to his fridge. He opens the door and starts to rummage around looking for something to help with the spice. As he roots around he is graced with more of Draco’s bellyaching from the couch.

“My throat. Oh— _HIC_ —is this how it ends? Is everything— _HIC_ —going black? I think everything is— _HIC_ —going black. Tell my mother I said farewell. I shall— _HIC_ —miss her—”

Harry furrows his brow, tuning Draco out, he reaches further into the depths of the refrigerator. He knows there's got to be something in here somewhere. It had been his turn to host taco night this past week. A tradition Hermione had insisted upon as they’ve gotten older. Everyone was getting busier and busier so having a standing date every week ensured their little family some much-needed time for catching up.

It also meant that Harry had certain ingredients that he normally would never keep in his fridge. Lucky for Draco. 

As he’s feeling about he thinks back over how they— _Draco, really_ —had gotten them— _himself_ —into this mess. Harry had been working a particularly tough case. A very, _very_ prominent family had numerous antiques stolen from their Manor. Most of the antiques that had been stolen had been very rare and very old. Not so bad in and of itself. So, what was making this case tougher than most? Most of the spellbooks that had been taken were finding their way into muggle London. Old magic was typically too powerful to handle for the average magical person. So, in the hands of muggles, the books had been wreaking havoc. They were lucky only one muggle had been severely hurt so far. 

Finding the books had been made a top priority. Unfortunately for Harry, his star power had followed him into his adult life, and high profile cases were frequently handed over to him. “Good for press and whatnot” he’d been told on several occasions by almost every supervisor he’d ever had. Fortunately for the Ministry, the magical world, and maybe even the muggle world—Harry happened to be more than competent at his job. 

Harry had been more than a little surprised when the expert they had brought in to help with the case had been none other than Draco Malfoy himself. Draco, it turned out, had become quite the rare book authority after Hogwarts. Being a scholarly man, having obscene amounts of disposable money and plenty of free time were all things that had led him to the illustrious hobby of rare book collecting. He had amassed the largest collection in Britain.The second in all of Europe. 

Harry had prepared for the most unpleasant time of his life working together but Draco had been surprisingly...un-git like. Not at all the annoying twat he remembered Draco being at Hogwarts. Draco had been very eager and most gracious to extend his help and vast knowledge in any and every way he could to the Ministry. The relationship started out with both of them keeping a polite, sterile, professional distance from one another. As time went on they both warmed up and formed an easier-going rapport. That rapport soon flourished into a friendship. The friendship, however, quickly turned into outright flirting. Harry resolved when the case was solved that he would throw all caution to the wind and ask for a date. When that fated day had arrived Draco had beaten him to the punch and insisted Harry take him out. 

It was surprising how smoothly that last transition of their relationship had happened. If Harry dwelled on it then maybe it wasn't _that_ surprising. If he was being honest then maybe somewhere in some dusty corner of his mind that sat untouched for years he had always wanted to flirt openly with Draco. Those were thoughts for another day, however. He’s got a more urgent Draco dilemma to occupy him at the present.

Draco had been the one to suggest they go for Indian. Harry, at the time, had found that to be quite thoughtful and charming of the sheltered pureblood. He should have known better. Draco, not familiar with the cuisine, had planned for Harry to pick what they would be eating. Draco himself would provide the wine selection for the evening. To keep away from the eyes of any slimy Daily Prophet reporters they had decided to make it a low key night getting takeaway and dining in at Harry’s flat. Harry had been plating up their respective meals when Draco arrived. Inquiring about the differences in their meals the blond was annoyed to learn Harry had ordered himself something called pork vindaloo and Draco would be having butter chicken. A much safer choice as Harry had put it for his uninitiated taste buds. Draco being too competitive for his own good had insisted it was “just spice” and he could handle anything Harry could. In hindsight, Harry supposes he should have tried a little harder to stop Draco. 

He feels around blindly for another minute before his palm connects with a cylindrical container. He pulls it out towards him and adjusts his glasses as his eyes shift over the label.

_A-ha! Perfect!_

With a triumphant grin, he reaches into the drawer to his left and rifles around until he feels a spoon and pulls it out. He returns to his living room to find Draco still slumped down in defeat clutching at his throat quietly moaning to himself. 

Harry makes his way over, pushing one of Draco’s annoyingly long legs out of his way, and settles himself between those long limbs on the coffee table before him. 

Harry taps the spoon against the lid and declares, “This will help.”

Grey eyes snap open and Draco, having got his audience back begins his moaning anew. 

“Come back to watch— _HIC_ —me die, have you? Come to make sure your vile plan— _HIC_ —works and I’m finished off— _HIC_ —for good.” 

“I thought I had a hero complex? Now I’m a villain?” Harry questions half-jokingly. 

“People— _HIC_ —change.” 

Harry fights the urge to roll his eyes all the way into the back of his head. As calmly as he can muster he repeats, “This will help.” He holds up the container so Draco can see. 

“Disgusting. Ew— _HIC_ —no!”

“Draco—”

“ _Harry_! I’m not eating a spoonful of sour cream.” He spits out as if it was the worst fate he could possibly face.

“It. Will. Help. Stop being a child.”

“I’m fine. See no more hiccups even.” He crosses his arms and takes in a mouthful of air.

“Oh, well, yes. We clearly are two adults who are both perfectly able to breathe properly.” Harry says sarcastically. Draco just keeps hold of his breath and hugs his arms around himself tighter. “Fine. I can sit here all night and wait for you to—” He’s interrupted by an intense coughing fit from his partner. Smirking Harry opens the lid and scoops out a heaping spoonful of the white gooey substance. 

“Ugh, no, ple— _HIC—_ please. Isn’t there anything else?”

“Well…I don't have any bread... You could wait for me to make you some plain rice. That’d take about thirty minutes or so. This will stop the burn right now.” Harry waves the spoon back and forth in front of Draco, careful not to spill any on the floor between them. 

Grey eyes follow the spoon and thin blond brows furrow in contemplation. As he’s sitting there trying to decide snot begins flowing from his nose anew. With a horrified look, from the snot, or from having to give in to the desperation of eating a heaping spoonful of plain sour cream, slender fingers rip the spoon from Harry’s grasp. In one smooth motion, Draco swallows the sour cream and deftly grabs the tub from Harry, scooping himself another generous portion just to be sure. 

Harry clutches at his sides and folds in on himself with uproarious laughter. Never in a million years did Harry think he’d ever have Draco Malfoy in his flat. Even if he did he would never have guessed it would be because they were on a date. On top of all that to see the refined, elegant heir to the Malfoy’s so disheveled and hoovering sour cream into his mouth as if his life depended on it? It was all too much. 

“Feels better. So much better.”

Harry wipes the tears from his eyes and looks over to see Draco gently running his fingers up and down his throat, his head tilted back, eyes closed in pure bliss. He’s softly whispering to himself in a low calming tone. Harry sits up a bit straighter. How could someone with bogies covering half their face still be so attractive? 

Grey eyes, sharp with perception, snap open to meet emerald green. “Found my imminent death amu— _AHEM_ —amusing did you?”

“Well—yes.”

“Well, I didn't.” Draco counters.

“Well, maybe when someone tells you not to eat the spicy food because you can’t handle it you should listen.”

“Yes...well…thank you.” 

“Your welcome.” 

Draco looks away and picks at the sofa for a minute before quietly asking, “Do you have a towel or something…?” He gestures vaguely at his face. 

“Gimme a minute.” Before getting up Harry grabs the tub of sour cream and the spoon he had brought in and disappeared into the kitchen once more. He returns with a bowl of warm water and a washcloth. Placing it gently down in front of Draco he turns to start packing up the pork vindaloo. 

“I suppose I did make quite the scene. I don't blame you for wanting to end the night here. I’ll take my leave once I look a bit more presentable—if you don't mind.” Draco laments softly as he rubs the soft cloth over his face. 

“What are you—” Harry follows Draco’s line of sight to the meal he was packing up. “Oh, no—you think…? Draco you honestly think I’m going to kick you out for not being able to handle your spice?”

“I thought…” he nods towards the half-packed away meal.

“I just figured I’d put mine away for later and we can both share the butter chicken. Nice and even. No more spice wars. ‘Sides I reckon there’s plenty of time for us to build up your tolerance.” 

“Is there?” 

“I’m hoping.”

“...I’d like that,” Draco says softly with a small smile. “So...evening not ruined?”

“Not ruined,” Harry agreed, cheeks warming a bit. Why was this soft comforting back and forth making him so much more nervous than all of the blatant flirting? “Actually I’d say this went better than I ever thought our first date would go.” He says with a laugh.

“Thought about dating me often then?” Draco questions with a coy smile.

“Yeah, loads,” Harry matches Draco's smile with a dazzling one of his own breaking out across his handsome features. He settles himself back onto the coffee table between Draco’s knees.

“And just what else have you thought about when concerning us?” Draco drops his voice to a soft husky whisper causing Harry to lean in. To hear better is all…

“Well, I never thought that once I had you alone in here—all to myself—” Draco leans himself even closer. “—that mucus would be the first bodily fluid I would get to come out of you.”

“Ugh, do you have to be so crass?” Draco chides pushing himself away from Harry. 

“I’m crass? _You_ are trying to seduce _me_. I’ll have you know I’m a good lad. Pure of heart, body, and soul!”

“Seduce you? _Ha!_ You haven't even begun to fathom the beguiling ways in which I’d make you— _mmph_ —”

Grabbing at the lapels on Draco’s jacket Harry pulls him in and crashes their lips together. It starts a little too rough and awkward but Draco quickly takes control and guides them towards something a little more slow and sensual. Harry sighs and opens his mouth wanting nothing more than the feeling of Draco’s tongue in him. As soon as he gets that long-awaited, long dreamt about sensation he is immediately denied. He feels hands push forcefully against his chest. Confused he opens his eyes to see Draco looking panicked. His mouth is hanging open, tongue hanging out and he’s swiftly waving his hand up and down as if he’s trying to cool himself. 

“It was in there—”

Still in a stupor from maybe the best kiss of his life, Harry eloquently manages, “Wha…?”

“The spice. The pork...whatever—the spice was still IN YOUR MOUTH!”

“My mouth…?” Hary questions absently bringing his fingers up to his lips. 

“Oh, burning—don't you dare laugh Potter—oh no...how is it— _augh_ —how is it worse this time?”

Harry slaps his hand over his mouth to try and stifle the laughter that was bubbling up.

“Oh, Merlin—no! Here it— _blegh—_ oh, here it comes. It burns! Where is that sour cream?”

“It’s— _hehehe_ —I put it back in— _haha_ —the kitchen— _ahahahahah_ —” Dissolving into a fit of laughter Harry has to resort to pointing.

Draco stands up and makes his way towards the kitchen in such haste he stumbles over his own feet more than once. Harry falls forward, his head resting on the cushions Draco had just vacated, fully succumbing and letting the laughter take over. He clutches at his sides as the sound of Draco fumbling around his kitchen fuels another bout of giggles. Hearing a loud crash and some colorful cursing Harry decides he’s let Draco suffer enough and should probably go help. 

Maybe the night hadn't turned out exactly how Harry had ever imagined it would be like. And maybe it was far from being perfect in some people's eyes but it was...perfectly _them_ somehow. Harry quite liked that as a concept. He and Draco being a _them_. An item. A set. 

On their next date, Harry figures he could cook and introduce Draco to some of the milder flavors his masala dabba had to offer. Or Harry supposes he could introduce Draco to the wonderful world of a late-night greasy fish n’ chips basket. Either way, he makes a silent promise to himself to hold off on giving the other boy anything spicy again for a long, long time. The thought of future endeavors puts a smile firmly on Harry’s face as he heads to the kitchen to rescue his newly acquired damsel in distress.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> What even is this nonsense? I could say that about everything I write to be fair lol  
> basically, I needed a break from my multi chap fic (Jealousy, Thy Name is James Potter--shameless promotion GO CHECK IT OUT!!!) and I thought Draco being a spicy food wimp would be funny. Kinda based on my mom as well. My sister and  
> I love spicy food & she always wants a taste & then complains it's too hot & moans about how we let her eat it 🙄😂
> 
> Also, the thought of eating a spoonful of sour cream just really disgusts me so I wanted to incorporate that. It really bothers me for some reason lol I don't know why but...blegh NO! Sorry to you sour cream lovers of the world😅
> 
> I also love the idea of Draco being a book collector. I think it would suit him nicely! Then again I think a lot would suit him because I spend way too much time thinking about all things Draco! 
> 
> I kinda want to write a fic with book collector Draco now! Or expand on this world if anyone would be interested?? 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Kudos are appreciated. Comments make my whole day (because I have no life lol)! But seriously thanks for taking the time out of your life to read my silly drivel & I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
